


me and you just singing our song

by rory_the_dragon



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: (not much), Ashton is seventeen, Blow Jobs, First Meetings, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, Luke is fifteen, M/M, Malum are Malum, Semi-Public Sex, So much fringe, the purple shirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 05:04:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4006882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rory_the_dragon/pseuds/rory_the_dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke's come a long way from the kid he used to be.</p><p>He doesn’t know if anyone else has noticed, but Luke feels the difference.</p><p>And as soon as Ashton Irwin walks into Michael’s garage, Luke suddenly feels fifteen and blushing all over again.</p><p>(Or: the one with the very first band practice)</p>
            </blockquote>





	me and you just singing our song

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: I took several liberties with the story of 5sos' first band practice for this fic, but I promise they're all for the better. Calum's here for one thing, which is always a plus. Also Luke is ambiguously fifteen in this fic. The smut that occurs between him and Ashton is all consensual, but if that's a no for you, I'm just warning you now.
> 
> Okay this entire fic is based of a very real headcanon I have of Luke and Ashton having been together since the very first practice and this is how it went down. Enjoy!

 

Luke's come a long way from the kid he used to be.

The kid he was a year ago, that kid in green fluorescent glasses, would never have been able to turn on the camera and record himself singing songs for anyone in the world to see, would never have gone further than mindlessly strumming his guitar in his bedroom instead of doing his homework. The kid he was a year ago was too big for his body, too quiet for everything he held inside his head. Luke, a year ago, wasn’t the same Luke he is today.

Since this whole band thing started, began to gain traction, since Calum and Michael started to slide into the blurry area between his best friends and his brothers, since he had reasons to laugh every day and the drive to _become_ has grown stronger, Luke has settled a little more into himself. Into the person he thinks he’s supposed to be.

He doesn’t know if anyone else has noticed, but Luke feels the difference.

And as soon as Ashton Irwin walks into Michael’s garage, Luke suddenly feels fifteen and blushing all over again.

He’s going to kill Michael.

Which isn’t exactly fair, he guesses. It’s not like Michael has any idea why Luke’s heart is suddenly pounding his throat and his hands can’t remember how to hold the X-Box controller right. Or is even aware that Luke’s reacting like that at all. Luke just wishes he’d had a little fucking warning about precisely _who_ they’re auditioning for a drummer.

He pauses the game of FIFA they’re playing, ignoring Calum’s protests as he watches Michael leap up to greet Ashton where he’s hovering in the open doorway, pushbike leaning against him and looking like he’s ridden twenty miles in Australian sun. He watches the excited smile break on Michael’s face, the easy half-hug that forms between two all-but-strangers in amongst the _glad you could make it_ s and the _let’s do this thing_ s. Michael’s not exactly the friendliest of guys to people he doesn’t know, Luke has that first hand experience.

But Luke also remembers how easy it was to talk to Ashton that day a year ago, and wonders whether that’s just the effect that this boy has on people.

“How does Michael know Ashton Irwin?” He asks Calum, tearing his eyes away from the pair in the doorway. He tries to sound casual, and he knows as soon as Ashton’s name leaves his lips, he’s missed it by miles. Ashton’s name sounds different on his tongue.

Luke can feel his ears heating up.

But Calum just shrugs, easy, and it would not have been that simple if Luke had asked Michael. Michael can be spikes and pointed questions, and Luke’s still learning how to simply dodge them, doesn’t have Calum’s talent for just ignoring Michael until he shuts up yet. “I dunno, Facebook?” Calum offers, craning his neck to have a look at Ashton but clearly not quite interested enough to get off the sofa. “How do you know him?”

Luke is saved from the embarrassing “He defended me from assholes at the cinema a year ago and I haven’t really stopped thinking about him since” that’s waiting on the tip of his tongue, ready to trip off and admit itself, by the arrival of Michael and Ashton to the sofa that they’re slouched in.

The sofa is shoved in the corner of Michael’s garage. It’s covered in stains and dirt and doodles of various band sigils across the back, their initials sketched into the arms, _5SOS_ written a thousand times in all their hands. There might be a few springs missing, but it’s perfect for the three of them, for playing X-Box in between band practise, for the cuddles Michael insists on, for recording their covers.

It’s also very good to sink into like Luke wants it to swallow him up, as Michael cheerfully introduces them both to the smiling - his smile, _fuck_ , it’s like staring into the sun - Ashton and throws himself onto the arm of the sofa and snatches the controller from Luke’s lax fingers, pressing _Resume_.

“You wanna play Fifa?” Calum offers out his controller instead of saying hello, which is admittedly better than Luke’s greeting of just _staring_ at Ashton and trying not to panic.

But Ashton just shakes his head, still smiling. “Nah, I don’t really like Fifa,” He shrugs, hands sliding into his pockets, and three heads swivel to look at him, aghast.

(Well, two. Luke was already looking.)

"You don't like Fifa?" He hears his own voice asking, because it's as if Ashton's just admitted he's not a real boy at all, doesn't enjoy sitting squashed up into a tiny sofa with his friends, arguing and laughing and shouting, because sometimes it's not about Fifa at all. At least not for Luke.

Maybe he doesn't have friends the way Luke has friends.

The thought is both unbearably sad and laughable; who wouldn't be friends with Ashton Irwin and his smile?

Ashton shakes his head, smiling a little apologetically, before something in his eyes shifts as he looks at Luke. Becomes a little more focused and yet far away at the same time, like he's trying to remember the words to a song he forgot years ago. A small line appears between his eyes and underneath his blonde fringe, thinking, and suddenly Luke can't be in the room anymore.

He doesn't quite hear what he says, but he stumbles to his feet and all but races for air. He's being really fucking rude but he can't process everything right now, needs a second to breathe and reassess and connect the Ashton he met a year ago with the Ashton standing in front of him now. They're the same person, but Luke isn't anymore.

He doesn't want Ashton to place him, remember him as the dorky kid who needed saving.

There’s also a third, secret, Ashton he’s trying not to think of. The one he’s spent the past year vaguely thinking about. Nothing concrete, Luke’s never allowed himself to find the other boy on Facebook or anything like that, for fear of ruining the ideal he’s built up in his head, but whenever he felt bored or lonely he’d let himself think about being protected and looked after by that sunshine face, burying his face in his pillow in a mixture of delight and embarrassment.

The air outside helps a little, washes out the flush he’s sure is bright pink in his cheeks, and Luke leans himself against the garage wall, making sure to stay out of sight of the house. He doesn’t want Michael’s mum seeing him and worrying, he doesn’t exactly have a legitimate explanation for being like this. The sun is warm above him, and he closes his eyes, tipping his head up to catch the dying rays.

He thinks he left his breath somewhere inside the garage.

“Hey,” comes from somewhere close by, and Luke snaps his eyes open to see Ashton standing a few feet away, face caught in a concerned frown as he steps closer. Luke didn’t hear him come out. “You okay, Luke?”

Luke swallows, bullshit answer forming on his tongue before he completely chokes on it. Because Ashton’s reaching out and laying a familiar hand on his shoulder, like he’s worried Luke’s going to float off if he doesn’t.

Vaguely, Luke’s aware that he can hear Michael and Calum back in the garage, tuning up and chatting quietly. He can hear the sound of cars passing on the road nearby. Birds in the trees. It all fades as his focus comes down to one singular point; the warmth of Ashton’s palm through his shirt, the slight brushing of his thumb against the side of Luke’s neck, instinctive, as if he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

There was a question he has to answer in there somewhere, is he okay, and Luke’s not really sure what the answer is actually. He nods, mute, cheeks almost certainly pink from embarrassment and the fact that Ashton is touching him, and Ashton smiles at him.

He doesn’t move his hand.

“Still not any less nervous, are you, Lukey?” Ashton’s voice is a quiet little tease, a toothy smile that’s a little bit at Luke’s expense, but it’s as if Luke’s in on the joke too. It’s nice. Not as nice as the small flip in his stomach at the casual nickname he’s been bestowed. _Lukey_. He thinks he likes that.

It takes the punch out of the realisation that, yes, Ashton definitely remembers who he is.

Luke laughs a little, breathy, shaking his head. He might be a different guy to who he was last year, but some things don’t change. Especially not in the presence of people’s he’s very definitely into because Ashton is all legs and stunning smiles. He’s older and he seems it. He’s taller and he doesn’t. He came outside to check on Luke.

He’s _nice_.

He’s still looking at Luke.

He’s very close.

Luke’s eyes follow the path of Ashton’s tongue as it sweeps across his bottom lip, before the pinkness is caught between his teeth and Luke is jerking his gaze back up to Ashton’s eyes. His own mouth feels a little dry as Ashton seems to study him, although what he thinks he’s looking for, Luke has no idea.

“Want me to help you calm down?” Ashton offers, the slight hesitancy in his voice at the beginning of his sentence fading as he steps closer. His other hand, the one not rubbing small circles into Luke’s neck, settles at Luke’s hip, firm and steadying. He waits.

Luke can’t find his words. They’re lost somewhere in the gentle hazel of Ashton’s eyes. He nods. “Um, yeah,” He croaks out, clearing his throat and trying to meet Ashton’s patience gaze for more than a few seconds. “What. Um. What do I have to-?”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Ashton finishes the thought for him. “Just relax, yeah?”

Luke's brain doesn't fully catch on to what's happening until Ashton's breath is fanning out across his lips. He can taste the memory of something sweet, like Ashton was eating candy earlier, see the dust of Ashton's eyelashes closing, feel a careful hand fit to his jaw, thumb stroking across his cheek, and then Ashton is kissing him.

It's soft and sweet, gentle pressure fitting against Luke's lips, but Luke's breath still hitches like he's been thrown up against the wall. He's suddenly aware of every point of his body like he hasn't been ever been, and all of it is singing Ashton's name. The space of his hip where Ashton's hand is firmly laid hums.

Luke's kissed, and been kissed, before, but not like this. Not by someone who knows how, who knows how to tilt Luke's chin up to a really good angle, how to bite softly at the flesh of Luke's bottom lip and run his tongue across the impression left behind until Luke's shivering. How to sync Luke's breath to his.

When Luke sighs, he can feel Ashton's lips smiling.

Then Ashton pulls away, slow, holding onto the kiss for as long as possible. Luke chases it a little, snatching a few extra seconds and a small giggle from Ashton's mouth, before he rests his head back against the wall. He opens his eyes. Ashton does the same, and Luke can feel his cheeks pinken even as he smiles shyly at the older boy.

His heart is hammering in his chest, but strangely he does feel weirdly calmer. Something about the grip Ashton still has on his hip, the easy follow of Ashton's breath, his coaxing mouth. He feels like he should say thank you, because that did help and he has no idea how Ashton knew it would. But he's also pretty sure saying thank you for a kiss is pretty weird.

He's still trying to decide what to do when Ashton releases the hand he has on Luke's waist, removes the hand that's slid into Luke's hair without Luke even noticing. Ashton's not touching him anymore, but he's close enough, barely a breath away, that Luke doesn't feel bereft.

He expects Ashton to say something - or maybe Ashton is waiting for _him_ to say something, oh god - when he feels long fingers collect up his hands and then they’re being raised up to Ashton’s mouth. There’s a slight wetness to the pink of Ashton’s lips as he ghosts them across Luke’s knuckles, eyes never leaving Luke’s, and that’s because of _Luke. He_ is the reason for it.

Then Ashton lowers himself to his knees, using Luke’s hands as leverage, and Luke has to be imagining this. He has to be. This can’t be happening.

Because those long fingers of Ashton’s are on the snap of Luke’s jeans, stroking at the button, as he looks up at Luke from under his fringe and asks, “This okay?”

Luke can’t seem to find any words. His mouth is working, but there’s nothing coming out. Not even his breath. That’s stopped somewhere in his chest. Right about the time when Luke’s brain made sense of Ashton on his knees and his dick decided that it wanted in on the party.

His lack of answer seems to worry Ashton, because his hands move to stroke soothing patterns into his stomach. “It’ll definitely calm you down,” He says, voice certain but still waiting on Luke’s consent. “I promise.” And his smile is quiet and true enough that Luke’s willing to believe this promise and every other one Ashton will ever offer him in the future.

He buries his teeth in his bottom lip and nods his head, _yes_.

Ashton’s smile widens and he uses his hands on Luke’s shirt to push up the material and lean in, dotting a nonsensical array of soft kisses across Luke’s belly, pressing them in eager and happy, as if this is everything he wants to be doing right now. In response to the attention, Luke’s abdomen tightens and shivers shoot up and down his spine, between his legs, even before Ashton begins sucking lightly at the skin.

“ _Oh god_.” Luke can’t help the words falling out of his as Ashton pulls a small mouthful of flesh between his teeth, and he feels Ashton’s mouth grin.

“Whatever you say, Lukey,” He murmurs across his skin before his fingers move back to their original position and start undoing his jeans.

Then, “Nice boxers.”

Luke looks down and immediately wants to smack himself in the face.

He’s wearing fucking _Batman_ boxers.

Usually he stands by them, Batman fucking rules, but right now he really wishes he’d decided to put on just some plain black underwear this morning. Something that wouldn’t have an amused smile playing on Ashton’s lips and Luke’s cheeks flooding crimson.

Well it’s hardly like he _knew_ this was going to happen!

Ashton’s small laugh breezes out against him, through the material of his boxers to where Luke’s well on his way to stunning hardness from Ashton’s attentions, before he leans forward and presses a small kiss to one of the Batman logos.

Luke tips his head back and bites back a groan.

“Batman’s awesome, okay?” Ashton tells him, and the vibration of his speech shudders against Luke as he mouths his still grinning mouth wetly at Luke’s dick through his boxers. Luke’s embarrassment floods away, whether by Ashton’s assurance or the sensation of his mouth or both, he doesn’t know. He just knows _Ashton_.

And then he knows a gasp of cold air as Ashton's thumbs tuck into the lip of his underwear and drag them down to mid-thigh, before hot breath covers him, and Luke has to thump his head back into the wall to keep his wits about him.

 _Fuck_.

He must say it out loud, because Ashton is giggling again, smudging kisses across Luke's exposed thighs. "You're really sensitive," He notes, sounding delighted, and Luke actually thinks he's doing pretty well seeing as how this is his first time doing anything like this.

His mild outrage is firmly forgotten about when Ashton's dragging kisses across his thighs, his hips, abruptly stop and Ashton is closing a chaste kiss on the head of Luke's painfully hard dick. "I like it," He murmurs, but Luke barely hears him because then Ashton is taking him into his mouth and it's everything.

It's nothing like his own hand, not even close. Ashton's mouth is hot, so hot that Luke feels like he's on fire, and wet and sucking happily on his cockhead. There's so much happening, the swirl of Ashton's tongue, the quiet slurping noises that Ashton's making as he draws off and on the tip of Luke's dick, not going any further down just yet, and Luke cannot believe this is happening.

And in Michael's back garden.

Luke is the worst friend ever.

At a swift series of kitten licks that Ashton delivers around him, Luke's hands, previously hanging useless and numb by his side, move instinctively to the back of Ashton's head. He pulls them back at the last second, self-conscious, and Ashton catches him, hazel eyes flicking up to hold onto Luke's.

Ashton gives him a look, long and meaningful, and Luke doesn't really know what it's supposed to mean, but he lets his hands settle in Ashton's hair. His fingers come into contact with a little product, and that, above everything, makes him unbearably pleased.

Ashton wanted to look nice, wanted to impress them.

Then Ashton hums, pleased, and coherent thought leaves Luke's head as Ashton sucks his way down the length of Luke. His hips jerk at the sensations, and Ashton's hands, broad and strong and all Luke will be able to think about for weeks, secure themselves at Luke's hipbones again and _push_. Push until Luke's pressed entirely against the wall and hold. Hold him still.

Luke groans, fingers tightening in Ashton's hair.

He doesn't know what it is. It's not just the incredible feeling of Ashton's mouth working around him, which is pretty fucking amazing. But it's the grounding pressure he has on Luke's hips, the quiet confidence he exudes as he takes care of Luke. It's feeling entirely _looked after_. Luke feels like he could fall to the ground and Ashton would catch him on the way down.

Actually that's a bit of a possibility. His knees feel very weak.

"Ash-" He can't get Ashton's whole name out, because suddenly he's hurtling towards an edge, heat pooling in his stomach and his hands clenching in Ashton's hair.

He looks down, he can't stop looking down, and sees Ashton looking up at him, lips red and wet and around Luke's cock, eyes fixed squarely on Luke as his cheeks hollow and-

Luke feels torn apart, like something inside of him has cracked open and is spilling apart without his control. He gasps a sound that could be Ashton's name, and comes like he never has before. Unexpectedly.

As he slumps back against the wall, eyes closing and heart racing, Ashton takes his time getting back up again. Instead he licks his way around Luke's sensitive flesh - _licking him clean_ , Luke realises, a thought that makes him feel ridiculously _good_ for some reason - and tucks him back into his boxers before he stands.

Luke opens his eyes to see Ashton wiping his mouth, wiping _Luke_ off his mouth, before he’s closing them again to accept the small little kiss Ashton is gifting him. And that kiss feels like Ashton’s sealing all of Luke’s cracks back up again, carefully handling all his little pieces and slotting them back into place for him.

“Better?” He murmurs, pulling back just a little.

And he probably wants an answer, right?

“Uhhh,” Luke says, then frowns, because that wasn’t actually words. Damn it.

But Ashton just chuckles a little, at him but not meanly, which Luke is beginning to see as a pattern, and kisses his cheek. “I like you relaxed,” He says, smiling that sunshine smile, and flicking his fringe out of his eyes. Then he shrugs, “I think I like you anyway,” and rests himself on the wall beside Luke.

Luke’s stuck enough on that, these vastly improbable words that Ashton definitely just said, that he doesn’t notice that Ashton’s unbuckling his own jeans until he’s slipping a hand into his boxers right beside Luke, hissing a little as he takes himself in hand. Luke’s definitely staring, transfixed, at the quick, efficient, movements of Ashton’s hand through his boxers. But he figures that since his dick was just in Ashton’s mouth, he’s probably allowed to look.

“Do you…” He trails off, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as Ashton’s hand speeds up a little, twists under the material of his underwear. “Um...Do you want some help with that?”

Ashton’s assuring smile breaks off on a groan. “Nah,” He says, breathing heavily. “I got it, don’t worry. This was for you, not me. Just don't- _ah_ ," He cuts himself off with a particularly slick sounding noise, and Luke's stomach flips. "Don't want to go back in with a boner, y'know?" He says, as if everything that's just happened and is happening right now is perfectly normal.

Luke's pretty sure it's not but, hey, he's hardly complaining.

The thing is, though, that he suddenly really, really, _wants_ to help. Slowly, and keeping his eyes on Ashton so if it looks like the other boy wants him to stop at any point, he can, Luke reaches out a hesitant hand. Because he feels like he can, feels like he can do anything right now, thanks to Ashton.

His knuckles brush against Ashton's - _black_ \- boxers, the heat of them, the damp spot where the head of Ashton's dick is being fisted into the material, and he feels Ashton beneath his fingers.

Ashton comes. It's like watching a star explode, how fucking incredible he looks when he's coming. But it's there and gone in a heartbeat, Ashton collapsing against the wall and his chest heaving.

Eyes still closed, he pulls his hand out of his underwear and, quite daintily, licks the few smears of come off his hand before he's opening his eyes and fixing them on Luke, admonishing. "Dude," He says, laughing incredulously. Luke's still stuck on watching him lick his own come off his hand because holy fuck Luke wants to watch that on repeat for the rest of his life. But Ashton's still talking. "You made me come in my pants, what the hell?"

Luke tears his eyes away from Ashton's hand and feels himself heat up. "Sorry!" He blurts out, but Ashton's already shaking his head.

"S'okay. Would have been awkward to clear up anyway."

And he reaches out to kiss the embarrassment out of Luke's mouth.

Luke's not really sure what's happening - if he's honest he hasn't really known since Ashton came out to check on him - but the kiss is nice and Ashton is nice, and Luke feels really nice right now. And he knows they're got a practise/audition to get back to, probably been out too long already, but he lets Ashton kiss him and press him into the wall of the garage.

He can't hear the tuning of guitars anymore. Mikey and Cal must have gone back to playing video games.

"So?" Ashton asks, leaning against the wall beside him and quirking an eyebrow at Luke as he does his jeans back up.

"So...What?" He asks, turning so he mimics Ashton's position. Was there a first part to that question or...?

Ashton giggles. It's the nicest sound. "Do you feel better now?" He clarifies, and Luke ducks his head, biting back a stupid smile.

"Yeah," He says, because he does. And then, because he can't stop his stupid mouth from talking he also says, "Thanks."

Ashton giggles again. "You're welcome, Lukey."

"I'm sorry," He keeps going. "For running out and being a giant weirdo. I just. I don't know if you remember me, from the cinema, and you just caught me off guard, I-"

"I remember you." Ashton's interruption is quiet but it cuts through Luke's babbling instantly. Then he smiles. No, smirks. "It's hard to forget a cute boy in fluorescent green glasses."

Luke's cheeks heat up at that, at Ashton calling him cute, which is ridiculous because Ashton literally just sucked him off, he's pretty sure Ashton's at least a little bit attracted to him. But still he blushes, and Ashton giggles his giggle again, and leans in one final time to kiss him. It's short and soft and feels like an end and a beginning all at once.

"I'll see you inside, yeah?" Ashton says, straightening out his hair because, yeah, it definitely looks like he just blew a guy. Luke probably shouldn't have tugged so hard.

"Yeah," Luke nods, but as Ashton begins to walk away, he  reaches out to clasp Ashton’s wrist, holding him there for a second. "And, um, me too."

Ashton stops, turns back and tilts his head. He doesn't remove Luke's hand. "You too what?"

Luke almost loses his nerve. But, "I think I like you too," He manages, and Ashton's face splits into its biggest grin so far. It _is_ just like staring at the sun.

A sun with dimples.

While Ashton goes back inside, Luke stays leant against the wall a bit longer. His heart is quick, but it's like it's racing in time to a song he desperately wants to sing. Then he straightens himself out, forces the remains of his blush out of his cheek, and heads back inside.

Ashton’s already talking to the others, as if he’d been there all along, and it’s only by the small knot at the back of his hair that Luke put there and Ashton hasn’t quite worked out that Luke assures himself that that entire thing did, in fact, happen.

He ignores Calum’s searching look, murmuring a “Sorry, back now,” and desperately pleading with himself not to turn red under his assessment, and begins tuning his own guitar as Ashton starts marvelling over the fact that, for some reason, Michael has a drum-kit in his garage.

“How come you have a drum-kit?” He’s saying, as if he hadn’t noticed it when he first arrived, sitting himself on the stool without instruction. He looks at home behind the drums, twiddling the sticks between his long fingers, and...Luke’s staring again. “I brought my cajon!”

“My parents,” Michael shrugs, which is answer enough, looking incredibly pleased at Ashton’s obvious delight, as Calum pipes up with, “What the hell is a cajon?” Luke looks up again, and sees Ashton glancing at him, even as he explains what the wooden box he brought with him actually is, small smile on his face the whole time and even if he’s directing it at Calum, it feels like part of it is for Luke.

Then they’re deciding a song to play, Michael’s yelling “Lets get this show on the road!”, Calum’s telling him to shut up, Luke’s slinging his guitar around his neck, and Ashton’s counting them in.

It’s the best band practise they’ve ever had.

It's not just that Ashton's keeping time and adding rhythm, adding something they always knew was missing but could never fill. Luke feels like he's playing on fucking air, feels unstoppable singing _i'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby_ with Calum and Michael fucking harmonising, _fuck_.

They sound awesome, and they're grinning at each other so wide that the words come out sounding like laughter.

To Luke, it's a no-brainer; Ashton's in. But they still set their guitars down - even though everything in Luke just wants to keep playing forever - and leave Ashton alone in the garage while they grab some Cokes and talk it through.

Which is the smart idea. This is everything they ever want to do, Luke can't fuck over the other two by just blurting out 'Oh my god, yes, you're in!' if they don't agree.

It doesn't stop him from doing so out of Ashton's earshot.

"My vote's yes," He says as soon as they enter Michael's kitchen, and he doesn't miss the significant glance Michael and Calum level at each other, even as Michael opens the fridge.

"Mine too," Michael says, handing a can to Calum, one to Luke, and grabbing one for himself.

"And me," Calum adds, and then waits until Luke's taking his first much needed gulp of fizz. "Even though he didn't suck me off behind the garage."

Luke chokes on his coke.

While he's coughing and spluttering, trying to find his breath and his dignity, Michael and Calum laugh at him, gleefully exchanging high fives. Luke hates them, okay, he really does. "How did you know?" He asks, wheezes, but his friends both level a _are you fucking kidding us_ look at him. He shuts up.

"You were hardly subtle, mate," Michael laughs, and when Luke flips him off he only laughs harder.

Even as mortified as Luke is right now, he can't help but laugh a little as he tells Michael to " _Fuck off, Mike._ " Michael's infectious like that.

"Look we just need to know if he, like, y'know, offered you a blowjob so you'd vote yes," Calum's still saying, and he looks serious. Luke stops laughing. "He doesn't seem like that kinda guy, but we have to ask."

" _What?_ _No!_ " Luke's offended they think he'd do that, and he tells them so, outrage warring with a desire not to be heard by Michael's mum, wherever she may be.

Then he thinks, chewing on his bottom lip, before that outrage swells up once again. "Also what are you implying? What? The only reason he'd blow me would be to get in the band?" Luke's kind of, _well_ , hurt actually, and he can feel that he's pouting a little. He tries to stop, searching for the certainty that he had earlier. "He did it because he likes me, okay?"

He crosses his arms over his chest, punctuating his declaration triumphantly, and sees that Calum and Michael are

 _Smirking_.

Luke suddenly feels like he's missed something. "What?" He asks, cautious, and Michael outright laughs at him.

"Dude, you're too easy," Calum cackles, swinging an arm around Luke's shoulder and hugging him affectionately. Luke kinda wants to throw him off right now, but Calum's love is like a puppy. It's hard to say no. "Of course he didn't blow you to get in the band, we're not that good."

" _Hey!_ " Michael shouts, looking offended. "I told him we'd be playing to two hundred people."

"If he believed that, he's an idiot."

Michael opens his mouth to retort and Luke can see the beginning of a very long and pointless argument. He cuts it off before it begins. "So he's in?"

"Well yes obviously." Michael rolls his eyes, sufficiently distracted. "It's a good job he's amazing on drums otherwise we'd have a fucking awkward situation here, Hemmings."

Luke winces. He hadn't thought of that.

Truth be told, he hadn't been thinking anything at all, anything that wasn't _Ashton Ashton Ashton..._

Then he shrugs, grinning. "Still got a blowjob out of it," because he knows it'll make Michael's face screw up. Calum just looks at him, like he knows Luke's full of shit, and, well, yeah he is. He just doesn't need to know that it's so obvious.

He ducks the disgusted thump Michael throws at his arm, grabs the spare coke they set aside to take back for Ashton, and leaves. Michael and Calum hang back and, sure enough, when he looks back their heads are bent together, talking quietly.

It's the first time it doesn't nag at him a little. The three of them are closer than is sometimes healthy, but there are times when it's impossible to forget just how long Calum and Michael have been friends, impossible not to feel a little on the outside. But then Calum will grin his puppy-dog grin at Luke, rolling his eyes at Michael and asking Luke to join in the joke. Or Michael will throw himself onto Luke for the boniest, greatest cuddles Luke knows. And it's alright.

And now they're definitely talking about him, but he doesn't mind, so he leaves them to it and goes to find Ashton.

The garage appears empty at first glance. Luke frowns, confused, until he hears a laugh and finds the source of it; Ashton making himself comfortable across their sofa, legs kicked up over the arm and body draped over the cushions. Luke can't help his smile. He _fits_.

"So?" Ashton asks, rolling himself up to look over the back of the sofa at Luke, arms folded under his chin. There's the slightest flicker in his smiling eyes, as If he's worried, before it's gone. "Did I make it?"

Luke laughs, handing over the Coke. "I can't tell you that!"

"Aw," Ashton complains, good natured. "So they're sending in the pretty one to break the bad news, huh?" And he grins all teeth up at Luke who, as if on cue, blushes.

"Shut up," He tells him. "And stop guessing. Wait for the others."

"Spoilsport." Ashton throws himself dramatically back into the cushions, and Luke doesn't think he's ever met anyone who expresses emotions as expansively as Ashton does.

The easy smile on Luke's mouth fades in the silence that ensues after Ashton's outburst. In that quiet, he can hear Calum's words all over again. Joking the other boy may have been, but there's something like a ring of truth creeping into Luke's head. Ashton is expressive and amazing and stunning. Why _would_ he be interested in someone like Luke? Someone who he only really knows as the dork from the cinema he had to recuse.

All of Luke's certainty from earlier leaves him, like it was never there in the first place, because what if Calum was right...

He's been quiet for too long. The arm Ashton threw over his face in protest raises, so he can see Luke again. "You okay?"

Luke blinks, forcing a smile. "Yeah, course."

Ashton's gaze feels like an X-Ray, piercing with its concern. He pushes up again, until he's on his knees, and reaches out for Luke as if it's the only instinct he has. His hands settle on Luke's waist. "Luke."

It's the way he say his name, with an inflection Luke's never heard before. Like his name is a full sentence in Ashton's mouth.

"Did you. Um. Did you do that for me so that I'd like you? To get in?"

His voice sounds tiny. Humiliated.

He so desperately wants to be wrong right now.

Ashton blinks. His mouth falls slack, and the way he looks at Luke... It's like his heart is breaking. Luke immediately tries to apologise, take back his words, his fears, but Ashton cuts him off. He grabs for one of Luke's hands, holding it between his own, and his grip is so tight. "Luke, I _promise_ you," He says, eyes never leaving Luke's. "That isn't why. Okay?"

Luke searches his face, but he has no idea what he's looking for. All he can see is earnest hazel eyes and Ashton worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

He nods, uncertain but trying not to be. "Okay."

Ashton frowns. He can tell Luke's not fully there yet. Without letting go of Luke's hand, he swings himself up and over the back of the sofa, until he's standing in front of Luke. Luke looks up at him, then down at their hands.

"I promise," Ashton says again, like he's swearing fealty to Luke or something, and he cups Luke's face with his free hand. Luke can't help but close his eyes at the touch, opens them again immediately, and Ashton is looking at him, silently asking.

Luke nods, and then Ashton's mouth is soft but insistent against his. Like Ashton's trying to seal his promise with his kiss.

And Luke wants to believe him, so he does. "Okay," He murmurs, when Ashton pauses to breathe. "Okay."

He can taste Ashton's smile.

Then the garage's side door opens and they leap apart. Luke's hand flies to his hair, even though Ashton never touched it, and he does his best not to look at the other boy as Michael and Calum return. He can hear Ashton giggling quietly.

Michael and Calum really aren't fooled. Michael rolls his eyes, and Calum laughs, definitely at Luke, but they don't say anything. Assholes they may be, but they're bros like that.

"So?" Ashton asks, leaning his hip against the sofa as the other two join Luke. Like they're a fucking judges panel or some shit. "Verdict? I've been trying to get the answer out of Lukey here but he's like a vault!"

"There's a joke about lock-picking in here somewhere but I'm not making it," Calum mutters, while Michael cackles, " _Lukey!_ "

Luke, dignified, ignores them both.

"Okay, well, probably best we don't put this off any longer." Michael sighs. "Ash. Dude. I'm sorry." He steps forward and lays a sorrowful hand on Ashton's shoulder, and Luke shoots an alarmed look at Calum, who just looks solemn. What the fuck? Did they change their minds?!

Then he sees a small smirk tugging at Calum's lips.

"Truly sorry that we're going to have to see that _hideous_ shirt again at next band practise," Michael's face splits into a grin, and Luke feels the air whoosh out of him in relief.

Michael's a fucking dick.

"What's wrong with this shirt?" Ashton asks, laughing, as Michael pulls him in for a congratulatory hug.

"Mate, it's fucking _purple_ ," Calum tells him.

Luke's smiling too hard to say anything.

And then Michael's pulling Luke and Calum into the hug as well, all limbs and laughter. Luke's used to Michael's insistence on group hugs, nap time snuggles, and the occasional smushing when he's bored, but this time one whole side of him is pressed up against Ashton. One arm is looped around Luke's waist and is squeezing him reassuringly, even as Ashton grins and laughs. Luke squeezes back.

It feels good. Right. A heartbeat of _this could really be something_ and it's not just him, it's thrumming inside of all of them, Luke can tell.

It passes, settling and quieting to a background hum as Calum thumps Ashton happily in the arm and slopes off to play more video games and Michael asks Ashton whether he wants to stay for dinner. Luke extricates himself, because otherwise it's just him and Ashton, hugging.

"Thanks, but I've got to get back," Ashton shrugs apologetically. "Next time?"

He and Michael fist bump, he throws a wave to Calum who's already absorbed in the game and being joined by Michael, and then smiles at Luke. "Walk me out?"

Luke smiles back and nods, ridiculously pleased.

"I'm sorry," He says, sheepish, as they step out into the early evening light, Ashton's pushbike between them. Ashton, who'd be halfway through lamenting how long it takes him to get home, stops. "About what I said earlier," He explains.

Ashton stops them on the pavement, pulling to a halt, and he looks like he's about to disagree, but Luke needs to get this out.

"It's just. You know. You're seventeen and cool and really nice and _hot_." He's babbling, he knows he is, there's a small amused smile playing on Ashton's lips. "And I'm...I’m not." He shrugs lamely. "I just-"

He's cut off by Ashton's hand on his neck, Ashton tilting their heads together. Luke expects another kiss, but instead Ashton just presses his forehead to Luke's. "I get it, okay. You don't have to apologise." His thumb strokes at the back of Luke's neck, hand squeezing there a little in reassurance. Luke sighs. "You were nervous and I wanted to help. Because I like you. Yeah?"

"Yeah," Luke nods, smiling helplessly, and Ashton kisses him.  

Luke's never been kissed so much and so often before. He's overwhelmed with it. He can hear whooping and laughing from inside the garage, and ignores it, pressing over Ashton's bike to the other boy.

Ashton breaks the kiss but doesn't move away immediately, giggling at the lewd sounds their bandmates are making. Luke can taste his laughter, warm breath against his mouth.

"Here," Ashton says, pulling back and reaching into his pocket for something. He hands Luke a phone. "Put your number in?" His voice sounds hopeful, his smile too.

Luke all but snatches the phone out of his hands.

Double-checking like five times that he's actually managed to put in his number correctly, he hands the phone back as Ashton swings a leg over his bike. Ashton pockets it, grinning at Luke so happily, and he's about to leave when he pauses.  "It's not true, you know," He says, serious even with his smile. "That you're 'not'. You are. You _are_ a lot of pretty great things."

And with that, he's kicking off and pedalling away and leaving Luke standing outside of Michael's garage with the biggest smile on his face.

 


End file.
